


How to Make Tegan's Favourite Coffee

by silver_devastation



Series: Encyclopedia Gallifreya [1]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 16:24:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1947999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_devastation/pseuds/silver_devastation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“But I’ve changed!” Turlough stabbed at a mug with the dish cloth and began cleaning it furiously, hunched over the sink with his shoulder blades sticking out underneath the school uniform. Cutlery clanged as it hit the primitive drying rack the Doctor insisted on using. It was only when he felt the Time Lord’s cool hand on his shoulder that he looked up. </p><p>From up close the Doctor’s eyes were very dark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to Make Tegan's Favourite Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> Encyclopedia Gallifreya is a series of short fics about the things Turlough learned from the Doctor.

“She hates me,” grumbled Turlough, stacking up their breakfast plates. Mugs balanced delicately on top of each other, piled high on the plates, spoons at the side, he carried them over to the sink where the Doctor was busy stowing away jam jars, butter and fruit for future use.

The TARDIS had fully automated kitchen facilities, and could generate — and, more importantly, thought Turlough,  _clean up_ — most edible foods in the universe. But of course the Doctor thought it was ‘educational’ for them to do things themselves when there was time. Some rot about staying grounded while hurtling through the Time Vortex. Turlough shook his head. Only the Doctor would want to do housework for fun. 

Meanwhile, Tegan had excused herself. She needed more time in the showers, she said. Besides, she was the one up early and getting everything ready, so it was only fair that the boys cleaned up. She’d had a point, unfortunately. 

“She doesn’t hate you, Turlough,” came a gentle reprimand from the Time Lord. He had finished with the cupboards and was leaning against the counter next to Turlough, hands stuffed deep into his pockets. “She has completely rational misgivings about your motives based on your recent attempts on my life. It’s a rather different thing, and quite understandable, I should think.”

“But I’ve changed!” Turlough stabbed at a mug with the dish cloth and began cleaning it furiously, hunched over the sink with his shoulder blades sticking out underneath the school uniform. Cutlery clanged as it hit the primitive drying rack the Doctor insisted on using. It was only when he felt the Time Lord’s cool hand on his shoulder that he looked up. 

From up close the Doctor’s eyes were very dark. 

“You and I both know that,” said the Doctor and squeezed his shoulder. A shudder ran down Turlough’s spine, ending with a tremble somewhere further down that he would really rather not think about. 

“She doesn’t,” the Doctor continued. “Give her time. Make her a cup of coffee.” 

“But I —  _what_?” He turned to the Doctor, blue eyes defiant under a shock of red hair. “Why would I make a cup of coffee for someone who doesn’t care for me?”

When the Doctor’s hand dropped away and his eyes narrowed Turlough realized he had made a mistake. 

“Yes,” said the Doctor, slowly. “Why would you, indeed.”


End file.
